The last day before Halloween was spent working on the prank at every available moment, so Remus didn't have much time to think about seeing Miss Fawley until he realized it was time for Occlumency. This past week went by too fast, he thought as the Marauders headed towards the fourth floor. What am I going to do if I keep thinking of those moments? He wrapped his arms around his middle, hunching forward, and staring down at his shoelaces flailing with each footstep. Between the concert, prank stuff, Aegis, and dealing with Lily… he hadn't had time to prepare for what might happen! Am I really going to tell her?

"You don't look too well," Peter said, tugging at Remus's sleeve. "You all right?"

"Tired," he mumbled, hunching even more.

At least he had a few extra minutes, for as soon as they went into the room, James bounded towards Fawley and launched into a long description of the concert. Remus stood still, eyes on the floor, thoughts whirling wildly through his head. Tell, or don't tell? If I can't stop the memories, I'll have to tell—or stop Occlumency. What would Dumbledore say though? Sorry sir, I can't do Occlumency anymore, I have a big secret not even Miss Fawley can know. Yeah, that would certainly go over well. What bigger secret could there be than being a werewolf?

He gave the other Marauders a nod as they left then headed over to the couch, slowly sinking down. He clasped his hands around his knees, mouth dry, armpits damp. His head was already hurting, as was his stomach.

Miss Fawley's head was turned in his direction, her pale eyes pointed somewhere around his forehead. He looked up at her gentle, motherly face, and felt his heart sinking down into his feet. At that moment he realized even if he managed to stop constantly dragging her to that specific memory, there would be so many other memories—so many chances for her to find out what he was hiding. He had so many questions he wanted to ask Lily. And what if one day he somehow found a book about it? He'd get it, if he could. Maybe.

Fawley reached over, her slender hand resting on his. "What's wrong?" she asked. "I can tell you're troubled right now…"

Remus tried to talk but his mouth was too dry. It didn't seem fair at all, to have to tell her. To have to pry open his chest and bare his soul to someone else when he himself barely understood what was going on. He'd give anything to put it off… but doing so meant putting Occlumency off and only delaying the inevitable. Besides, what if he never understood? What if he was just as confused in his seventh year? Which was very likely, in his opinion.

"Is it the same thing as last week?"

He sucked in some air and managed a faint yes. He knew his hand was getting clammy under hers but she didn't move it. How am I going to do this? This isn't fair, this isn't FAIR!

He felt like weeping; like breaking down and lying on the floor and giving up. Being human was so hard. Too hard. It would have been easier to simply stay home and learn whatever he could through books. To not be around other people and be forced to share secrets he wished were otherwise buried.

His skin began tingling and feeling too tight. He took in a few more gasps of air, pushing back the tears, pushing back the wave of emotions that threatened to pull him under. If he was going to do this, he needed to be somewhat sensible. Even if it truly made no sense to him.

He began talking, but instead of telling her, he said something else.

"What if I have something so personal I don't wish anyone—not even you—to know?" He fidgeted, wanting to take his words back. Instead he kept going. "Something that might be difficult to hide in memories? It—it's something that's going to be… bothering me for a while. Indefinitely, really. I… I don't know when it will come up between me and Lily. It—I—I don't know what to do, Miss Fawley."

She kept one hand on his and put the other against his cheek, cradling his face. "Remus, my dear boy, you might not want to hear this but… Most people seem to think that the years at Hogwarts are practically golden. Perfection. Everyone wishes to be young again, a teenager again. I wouldn't go through those years again for a million galleons. Because it's not easy. It's difficult, messy, and terrifying."

He stared up at her, not sure what this had to do with what he said. He had been expecting her to tell him to share his secret, not… ramble on about being a teenager.

"You're only thirteen. What seems insurmountable and unavoidable and overwhelming now, may be a mere footnote in a week or month or year. You're so young… and you, especially, have been through so much in your short life. Perhaps it is a wall today, and tomorrow you'll find a door you didn't notice before and get through. Then there will be another wall, and more obstacles. That is part of life, and I know it is very hard at your age." She let her hand drop from his face. "Whatever is troubling you now may very well fade away with time."

I doubt it. He wriggled, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to tell her—or even if he should. "My lycanthropy won't fade," he finally said.

"No," she agreed hesitantly.

"What if it's something permanent? What if I, say, lost my arm or my leg and it couldn't regrow and I was stuck like that forever and—" He stopped, guilt flaring up inside as he realized who he was saying this to.

Fawley smiled, sensing his thoughts. "I thought my blindness was the end of my life. I had lost my sister, my husband, and my eyesight all in one fell swoop. I was in a terrible, terrible place and I thought I'd be there for the rest of my life." She spread her arms out. "I am doing very well. I have a full, happy life. I have wonderful friends. And I have a very amazing child to help. I'm not going to pretend it happened quickly, though. It took me several years to adjust, and there are days where I still struggle."

"What if it's something I don't want to adjust to?" he whispered.

She thought about this for a few seconds. "Having people in your life to help shoulder the burden makes a difference. I've seen such a huge change in you ever since last Halloween, when your friends told you that they knew your secret. It has helped, hasn't it? Them knowing?"

"Yes…" He began tugging at his sleeves. "What if it's something people wouldn't want to… shoulder?"

More silence. He wished he knew what was going on in her head, what she was thinking. She put her hand against her cheek in a rather girlish gesture before sighing and saying, "You need to make a decision. A very hard decision, Remus. If you think this secret is one that would come out through Occlumency—albeit accidentally—and you genuinely do not wish that to happen… there is nothing stopping you from quitting."

He winced at that word, letting out an audible groan.

Fawley frowned. "We will stop our lessons, though I will carry on with James and Peter if they wish. Albus can think we're continuing our lessons, and I'll use the time for them. But think very, very carefully about what this means. Learning Occlumency is a very important skill for werewolves who are not on the register and who continue to go out within society." Her voice was firm but not angry. Still, Remus felt like emptying his cauldron. "Is what you are hiding worth the risk? A very, very slim risk, I will not pretend otherwise. But a risk nonetheless.

He breathed hard, staring beyond Miss Fawley as her words sunk into his brain. The likelihood of him needing to use Occlumency at any point was so very tiny, yet there was always the what if? In addition, Occlumency would also help keep the other secret, if need be.

He chewed at his fingernails, feeling dizzy and the pendulum within him swung back and forth. Each peak felt like a blade smashing against his soul. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt fair. He curled his fingers into fists, pressing them against his head until it hurt. All he ever wanted was to live a normal life, and that was taken from him before he could understand it—and now… NOW he'd have even LESS of a normal life. Everything was being peeled away… and it was his decision whether to reveal it to Miss Fawley or not. It wasn't like with Lily. This was going to be an active choice, a choice he made. If he told her, it was because he chose to tell her.

If he told her, she would probably hate him though remain in his life, helping him through this.

If he didn't—if he quit Occlumency he'd probably lose her forever, and he didn't think he could stand that.

He didn't want her hating him though.

But—

He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, feeling everything inside of him being taken away, like someone gently taking his soul and pulling it out of his body.

"We m-m-might be able t-to… go into my—my—into—into my—" A deep breath as he closed his eyes. "We m-might be able to g-go into my memories without the—without seeing—without that one b-being there." He opened his eyes again, waiting a second or two to see if she'd respond, which she didn't. "We might not." He tugged his sleeves forward until he covered his hands, the ends flapping free past his fingers. He wanted to withdraw fully into his clothes and he reached up, tugging the collar until it covered his lower face, as if the fabric of his uniform was like a turtle shell.

"Lily has a secret," he whispered. "But the biggest problem is my secret. Th-that's what… I d-didn't want you knowing. I…" Another deep breath, the fabric tugging into his mouth a little bit, the cloth feeling like sandpaper against his lips. "I didn't want you hating me."

"Remus—"

"I know." A tear slipped out. "You say you c-c-could never but—but—if you knew… which—I mean—"

She found his hands, through his sleeves, and didn't comment on the fact they were covered. She held them through the sleeves, face turned towards his. "I will never hate you, nor will I judge you."

"You say that." His voice rose into a higher pitch, breaking on the last word. A few more tears came out and he began choking until he jerked his chin out of his collar. "I hate myself for it, I judge myself, I—" He couldn't talk anymore and sniffled loudly.

"Did you kill someone?"

"No!"

"Bite someone?"

"Never! Miss Fawley!"

"Did you hurt someone?"

He shook his head, snot dribbling out of his nose and onto his upper lip. He tilted his head to wipe it on his shoulder since she still clutched his hands. "No. Only myself."

Her lips pressed thin at that. "Physically?"

"… no," he admitted.

"Did you steal something?"

Was she going to list out anything and everything? He needed to stop her, but couldn't, couldn't say the words. "No."

"You weren't intimate with anyone?"

He sniffled, more snot dribbling out. "No!"

She folded her hands together, his between hers. "Remus, are you gay?"

His breath hitched in his throat and tears trailed down his cheeks, soaking into his clothes. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

She let go of his hands and he waited for the loathing; instead her arms went around him and she pressed his head against her bosom. He was stiff in her arms until he melted against her. This felt different than Lily's hug. This was tender, gentle…

Motherly.

"It's all right," she said, stroking his hair, not caring that her blouse was soaked with tears and snot. "My dear boy, it's all right." She kissed the top of his head before pressing her face against it. His body began curling against hers, his sliding a little into her lap. Then somehow he was in her lap and she was rocking back and forth.

Everyone knew it was wrong to be like that, yet the only two people who knew had told him it was okay.

He didn't understand.

His body shook, his breath coming out in gasps as he tried to breathe through the crying. After a long time (far too long) the tears slowed and he pulled away from her, wiping his face off on his sleeves.

"You d-d-don't hate me?"

"Never," she promised, hands still against his arms. "Dear boy, I accept one socially disparaging part of you that you did not choose, how could I not accept another? Even if this were something you could choose, I would not think less of you, nor hate you."

"You—but—everyone—everyone d-does and—and—people hate it—"

She squeezed his arms gently. "There is nothing in this world that isn't hated by someone. It is unfortunate that most of our society believes that homosexuals are wrong. Perhaps as time goes on, our world will change for the better although…"

He sniffled and wiped his nose again. "Although?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing. Only that some of the Purists seem to be getting more and more vocal about things for the p—oh, but that isn't important. The point is, there is nothing wrong with how you feel, and I care about you as much now as I did before I knew."

All he could do was give a whining sort of whimper that he knew sounded pathetic.

Fawley's fingers trailed to his chin, tilting his head up so she could wipe his cheek with her own sleeve. "Am I right to assume Lily knows about this?" He nodded, something he normally wouldn't do since she couldn't see him but since she was holding his face he knew she could feel it. "And she still cares about you?"

"Yes."

"Does anyone else know?"

"No, Miss Fawley." He sniffled. "I… I didn't… I wasn't—it—" He gave a slight hiccup. "I'm still… trying to… understand myself… it—it's very…"

"I'm sure it is." She pulled him back into her lap. "Is this something you only recently discovered about yourself?" He nodded, this time his head against her chest. "How long have you thought?"

"I don't know." He didn't want to get into it again, the feelings building up over the past year, the horrible moment in the summer when his mother called David Bowie wrong…

Then something turned sharply in his head. He jerked away from her, staring at her face, remembering how she asked each question. "Did—did—did you already—did you—did you—you—know—did—"

She had asked the last question in a different tone than the others, and had said his name too, like she expected that one to be the right one. He reeled with dizziness and nausea. Did she guess too? Would everyone?

Fawley bit her lip and sighed. "I did wonder," she admitted.

"How?!" he cried out. "How is everyone—how do—Lily guessed—she guessed too—how—"

"Remus, you need to remember how much of your life I see," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. He began shaking, terrified he was giving it away to everyone. Who would guess next? The Marauders? "In addition, I see things more or less from your point of view, not someone else's. There was also that letter last spring, with your question about the word 'poof'. It's… a lot of things, and most of them are things others are not privy to. I wasn't certain, please understand that. I… thought you were, but I didn't know."

I really need to make sure to throw anyone else off the scent, he thought, tugging at his shirt. He'd need Lily's help, to make sure he seemed… like a normal guy…

"In addition, if you had said no, I would have left it at that," she continued. "You don't owe anyone the truth about your sexuality."

Remus shuddered. Sexuality. That made it seem so much more adult. "S'not… s… se… se…" He couldn't bring himself to say the word. "Theat—" He stopped, taking in a deep breath before trying again. "That last word you said."

"Sexuality?" she asked. "It isn't… ah, that is… it does not have to do with sex. It merely means who you are attracted to. Homosexual, heterosexual, that sort of thing."

Remus wanted to say something about that but before he could stop himself he asked, "Is there a word for people who like both boys and girls?"

"Do you… like girls?"

"Of course I do, who else would I like?" he replied without even thinking, then felt himself burning up. "Er. That was—ah—erm, well. N-no." His voice dipped into a hoarse whisper. "No. I just wondered if there was such a thing."

Fawley was smiling. "That was a good immediate reaction, though. Anyway, yes, the term is 'bisexual'."

Bisexual, he thought, filing that away to tell Lily later. "Do you… know much about… th-this sort of thing?"

"Not very much," she admitted. "More than most, I imagine, though in the grand scheme of things I don't. But if you have any questions I can do my best to help."

Remus felt swelling inside his chest, like a warm balloon. He had Lily, and now Miss Fawley. An adult! A Pureblood adult! A Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood! A brief, wild thought occurred to him that maybe more people would accept him—which he quickly waved away. No, that was absolutely stupid and too risky for anyone else to know. Lily knew, and he had to tell Miss Fawley because of their lessons. That was it. Nobody else would ever know.

The two of them talked for a bit… mostly Miss Fawley, reassuring him that she didn't find anything wrong with that sort of thing. It wasn't too long before he felt too overwhelmed to be able to discuss it anymore. It was still hard for him to talk about, and she said she understood.

They didn't attempt any Occlumency, nor did she try to go into the memory of the night he was bitten. Instead, she held him for a little while before he slid out of her lap and headed to the secret passage to send James. His friends looked at his tear-stained face and asked what was wrong.

"Difficult memories," he lied, slumping down on the floor and rubbing his face. Fawley had said she only guessed because she saw his life through his eyes, but did that mean they wouldn't? He peeked out from behind his sleeves. James and Peter were expressing their sympathy for his difficult memories, while Sirius was watching him with a strange expression.

If anyone guesses, it'd be him, Remus thought, feeling nauseated even after Sirius turned back to the game he and Peter were playing. He'd have to be careful. Very careful, and watch every single thing he said and did around his friend. Once he got some advice from Lily it would be easier, though, to pretend to be like them.

Hopefully.

-x-

"NO!"

Remus sat upright, clutching his blanket to his heaving chest as he tried to gasp in air. Dim memories of his nightmare floated around his mind. Exposed for being like that. Exposed for being a werewolf. The Ministry trying to decide which to punish him for first.

He slumped forward, burying his face in his hands as he listened to Sirius's soft footsteps approaching his bed. "I'm all right," he whispered when Sirius scratched at the bedpost.

The curtain twitched aside, a silver eye peered in. "Can I come in anyway? I think we should talk."

Panic seized his chest and he knew what Sirius wanted to talk about. "I'm very tired…"

Sirius climbed into his bed, ignoring Remus's soft pleas not to. He settled at the foot of Remus's bed, staring at him in the darkness. Suddenly he leaned forward, coming at Remus who began panicking even more—what was Sirius doing?! He grew closer, his arm reaching out like he was going to put it around Remus who was beginning to think this was a dream…

Then Sirius tapped the dragon-light perched on the headboard with his wand so a soft glow filled the bed. He sat back to where he had been, tucking his wand behind his ear. Remus could hardly breathe, hoping the other boy didn't notice how terrified he was at what almost seemed to happen—

No. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts loose. Nothing almost happened.

"Why're you shaking your head at me?" Sirius asked.

"I'm shaking my head because you're an idiot who doesn't listen to me."

Sirius rested his hands on his knees. "And you have been avoiding me like the plague for the past few weeks."

He froze a little, having difficulty breathing now. "Have not…"

"Have so. Since your fight with Lily. You don't want to be around me. It's different with the others, but with me… well. I've noticed. What happened? Really?"

"Nothing." Remus looked up at him. "I thought we were past this—"

"Are you angry with me?" He tilted his head, eyes glinting in the light. "Is it because of the potion?"

For a second Remus wasn't sure what he meant before remembering. "No, I trust you that you'll bring me into the plans when… er… sometime. And I am not angry with you."

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

He wanted to pull away, to shrink back, to put as much space between the two of them as possible. "I haven't intentionally been avoiding you." The lie felt thick and poisonous on his tongue. "I'm tired, Sirius." He was going to use that as an excuse but when it came out he realized how true it was. "It's—it's—it's one thing after another, constantly, and I never get a break, I never get to stop. It's exhausting, and it wears me down."

Sirius studied him for a few seconds before shifting closer. "You're doing too much."

"I'm not," he replied immediately. Sirius raised his eyebrows. "No. I'll be—"

"Fine, fine, you're always going to be fine. When? When you dig yourself into a grave?" Remus stared at Sirius, a little shocked. Sirius sucked in some air and pushed his hair back, changing tactics. "You need to stop doing so much, mate. You don't need Magical Theory, do you? I could write down every single thing what's-his-face says. Or you could stop tutoring Monsieur Baguette. I've heard him, his English seems fine now. Why do you need to continue doing that?"

Remus dropped his head in his hands again. "It doesn't help that my friends keep insisting I'm too delicate to do anything."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then what did you mean?"

Sirius's eyes were blazing now. "You're hurting yourself. Pushing yourself. Maybe you don't see it, don't care, but you've been really messed up for the past couple of weeks. Don't even try to deny it."

He couldn't. Wouldn't. It was true, and it was too obvious to pretend otherwise. "You're right." That shut Sirius up. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking confused. "You're right," he said again, hugging his knees to his chest. "I have been messed up. I've been going through a lot of things."

"Not this again—"

"Yes, this again. I don't know what the wolfsbane did to me, you know. It could have longer-lasting effects on me than we realize. And all the other things… Miss Fawley and I are trying to see the night I was bitten. My parents won't tell me anything about that night, and I want to know. That's been putting a toll on my emotions too." It wasn't really a lie at all, but it was still avoiding the truth.

"You… are?"

"Yes." Remus rested his head against his arms. "We haven't seen anything yet, not properly, but we're trying."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds were their breathing and the sleep sounds of the other boys in the dorm.

Then Sirius said in a quiet voice, "It feels like you're pulling away from us. That… there… never mind."

"No, go on."

He let out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair again. "Sometimes lately it really feels as though you don't want to be with us, that you've got more important things to do, or more… important people to be with. Like… like Lily. I'm not stupid, I've noticed something's changed between the two of you."

"The fight we had brought us closer," Remus said. "But… it's not like you, it's not like the Marauders." Sirius gave him a long look. "It's not. You… you three are my best friends. You're more than that, you're my—" He stopped before he said 'pack' not wanting to admit to that embarrassment! "Marauders. We're the Marauders which means more than… than anything else. You three mean more to me than I could ever say." Now that definitely was the truth. "I swear to you that I am not pulling away from you guys, that there isn't anything more important to me than the Marauders. You three. I—I guess I have been a little preoccupied with everything going on, and I am sorry for that."

He needed to do better about this, be more alert about giving plenty of attention to his friends; he didn't want any of the Marauders to think he didn't care!

"It… feels as though that day in Herbology knocked me down and I haven't been able to get up since."

"You need a break," Sirius said. "A holiday."

"For Christmas—"

"Not for Christmas, sooner. You know, James wants to go somewhere some weekend. The four of us. We should do that sometime in November."

Remus pressed his lips tightly together. "I can't," he said faintly. "My parents would never agree. I couldn't—"

He leaned in. "Tell them it's related to school. Or—or something with Miss Fawley. She could back us up, she would."

He didn't want to tell Sirius that his parents didn't particularly like Miss Fawley. "I don't know…"

"It'd be good for you. A night or two away from the school. Even if it's just to James's house or something."

"Maybe." Remus merely smiled, not wanting to burst Sirius's bubble since it seemed like he was cheered up again. "But for now… it is late and we should sleep."

"Right." Sirius adjusted his position until he was kneeling in front of Remus, looking down at him. "I didn't mean to bother you, I just thought you really were avoiding me and I wanted to talk to you."

"No, I'm sorry it seemed that way."

"Good. Night-night."

"Goodnight, Sirius."

Remus watched him climb out of the bed and instead of going to his own bed, Sirius slipped into James's. After a moment he tapped the dragon light to turn it off and curled up under his covers until he drifted into sleep, this time having dreams of boys holding him while a dragon flew around overhead.